The Oak Tree
by Master Spock
Summary: Amy and the Doctor explore the delights of an art gallery at night when the Doctor comes across something rather amusing. Amy thought they were looking for rogue Weeping Angels. Pure PWP and of course AU, crack fic humour!


**Disclaimer: Tardis, sonic screwdriver, Doctor, Weeping Angels and Amy belong to the BBC. The 'Oak Tree' belongs to the Tate gallery, Michael Craig-Martin 1973.**

"Quick you said they were in the art gallery…" Amy Pond yanked at the huge art gallery door but found it refused to let her pass. Unsurprising really, it was close to midnight on a Sunday.

"Come here let me…" The Doctor hurtled after her stopping himself by running flat into the door. "I really need to get used to the breaks." He gasped exasperated thrusting his new, improved, green screwdriver at the lock. In an instant it sprang open and he shoved the doors apart running straight into the hallway.

"What was it you said about the Weeping Angels…? Something about blinking?" Pond who had been engrossed in looking around at the still gallery turned fearing the Doctor had left her, he hadn't and in fact was fascinated by a portrait. "Doctor."

"What?" He said spinning on his heel casually as though they were on a day out. "Oh the Angels… yes nasty creatures, we really need to be careful around them you know. One touch and they'll send us back to 1920, or 1950, maybe even right back to the 1800s, ooh don't want to end up there." Suddenly he looked afraid and turned his back to Amy searching the high stairwells and many corridors that led this way and that. A perfect hiding place for anyone who didn't want to be seen.

"Then why are we trying to find them?"

"Why indeed… come on I think we should go this way."

"Why that way?" Amy said suddenly unsure.

"Because, this is the way to the statue room. Come on." Grabbing her hand he led the way down the twilight corridor, illuminated only by emergency security lights it would be hard to see anything coming but he was confident they would find them. Hopefully before they found him.

After a lot of walking they hadn't found the statue room yet nor had they seen any sign of anything unusual apart from a few obscure life drawings and self portraits. Amy was beginning to tire and become bored but the Doctor seemed to find everything so interesting it was annoying, he'd even managed to unlock a security case just so he could climb in and have a closer look at one of the displays. Amy had considered for a moment locking him inside, but from what she'd heard about the Angels she didn't really want to be alone.

"Aaaaah!"

Amy's heart leapt to her throat and for a moment winced expecting to feel the rush of air and time flying past her as they were hurtled back in time. But nothing happened, opening her eyes again she turned to the Doctor who was stood on tiptoes looking up at something.

"Doctor are you alright?"

"Fascinating creatures you humans… I'll never understand your culture…"

"What?"

"This is a glass of water… it's on a shelf… and yet…" The Doctor looked from the glass sat on a tall glass shelf to the blurb, back to the glass once more. "It's an oak tree… Do oak trees grow from water?"

"No of course not."

"Well why does this artist say it's an oak tree? That's misrepresentation, are you sure it's not an oak tree? You humans can be crafty creatures."

"No it's a glass of water, the idea is that the artist… never mind." Amy sighed watching the Doctor grab a box artistically labelled 'step up' and dragged it over to the display to get a better look.

"Doctor shouldn't we be looking for the Angels?"

"No."

"No?"

"_No… _Stop mimicking me don't you know that's rude?"

Amy fell silent and folded her arms, turning to watch the entrances to the room while the Doctor… stepped up…

"But I don't understand, it's a glass of water that IS a glass of water, yet the artist insists it's an oak tree…"

"It's an expression… It's not an oak tree but the artist wants it to be…" Amy babbled.

"But it's-"Suddenly Amy heard a dull thud behind her and the tinkle of broken glass as the shelf glass and water contained within showered over him. Laughing uncontrollably the Doctor was incapacitated for a moment while Amy, desperate for them not to be arrested, tried to help him to his feet.

"I think we need to leave…" Amy said urgently. "If the Angels don't find us then the guards certainly will."

"Oh the Angels." The Doctors thundering laughter boomed through the gallery as he fell into hysterics again. "There are no angels, I just wanted to see an art gallery at night."

"What?" Amy was beside herself.

"Well would you really have come if I said I only wanted to visit an art gallery?"

"Right that's it we're out of here." Unceremoniously Amy dragged the Doctor out of the gallery, slammed the doors closed behind them and stormed towards the Tardis which was sat waiting for them, purring gently. The Doctor was another story, he lay still creased with laughter on the gallery steps, quite obviously amused by something.


End file.
